Huntrmynxx and the Mystery of the Deloidauthleiker
by Rosa Lui
Summary: Crack. Murtagh was, by nature, a solitary person. It was understandable, then, that he would be rather startled when a young woman came pelting out of the bushes and flung herself, weeping bitterly, at his feet.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine. :3 If I owned "Eragon", it would be a big, heavily illustrated book called "Murtagh." (Therefore, I do not own jack-diddly-squat.)

**A/N:** Well. Here it is. I was bitten by the Challenge Bug, and couldn't help but write this for Shurtugal Fanfiction's Mary-Sue Challenge. I hope you all enjoy it - it's half-crack, and half-serious - and PLEASE review. I love you all.

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**Huntr'mynxx and the Mystery of the Deloidauthleiker**

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Murtagh was, by nature, a solitary person.

As a mere baby under his mother's meager protection, he had been kept away from nearly everyone, with the exception of his old nurse. For the first few years of his life, he barely laid eyes on the other inhabitants of the great castle at Uru'Baen - even his father. Especially his father.

When his mother died, it didn't take Murtagh long to realise exactly _why_ she had kept him so much in secret; and by the time he had acquired the long, twisted scar on his back, he knew that the key to being safe was to stay out of the way.

And so he grew up very much alone, and glad for it. With the exception of his beloved tutor Tornac, he spent his time largely in the company of books. His brief, blessed time of freedom - freedom that had cost Tornac his life - did nothing to change this, and when he was dragged back to Uru'Baen to begin his forced servitude, he made sure to spend no more time than was absolutely necessary near his hated peers.

When Thorn hatched, he eventually proved not only a good dragon but a reliable companion. Together, they managed to while away their precious few free hours of the day in peace - just out of sight of the castle, in a large, grassy clearing.

It was understandable, then, that a man relatively accustomed to solitude would be rather startled when a young woman came pelting out of the bushes and flung herself, weeping bitterly, at his feet.

Murtagh opened his mouth to speak, mouthed wordlessly for a moment in sheer bewilderment, and then closed it again. "...?"

The girl was simply the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. Her skin was the golden-brown of fresh honey, and seemed to emit a soft glow in the warm afternoon sun - a glow that only brightened her already dazzling sapphire eyes, that shifted to deep purple in the changing light to reflect hidden depths of sorrow. Her hair, though wind-tossed, was sleek and shiny; a great mass of strawberry curls that cascaded down her back and ended somewhere around her knees. On one finger of her elegant right hand was a mysterious ring, which may or may not have looked vaguely familiar. Juxtaposed with this princessly image was her coarse brown peasant's corset and leather pants, tied around the waist with a plain sash, into which was tucked a wicked-looking sword. She was also wearing high-heeled boots that came up to her thigh.

Thorn peered over Murtagh's shoulder. _Never seen her before. Can I eat her?_

_That... that would not be... _Murtagh floundered for a moment, searching for the right word. _Politic. That would not be politic. If she needs help - but no, the King must know she is here. She could not have come unnoticed, not this close to the castle -_

_Are - are you a Dragon Rider???!! _An excited voice exclaimed, breaking through Murtagh's thoughts.

Murtagh was struck slightly speechless for the second time in as many minutes. _You_ know _I'm a Dragon Rider, Thorn. You're my_ dragon.

There was a huff. _That wasn't me. My voice is distinctly more male._

_Yes, but -_

_It was me!!!!!!!! _The girl had climbed to her feet, and was clutching at Murtagh's shoulders. Her cerulean orbs were sparkling with joy.

"Miss -" Murtagh began wildly, with rather no idea what he was going to say and even less of an idea what one was _supposed_ to say in situations such as this - "Miss, I'm afraid -"

_No! It is me, I speak through minds! I can hear you, and your dragon as well! _Here she grasped his tunic and shook him quite violently, as if to accentuate her point.

_Are you a Rider as well? _Murtagh asked cautiously, mind racing. If she was - if there had somehow been another egg Galbatorix never knew about... the Ancient Language enforcing his loyalty was far too strong to allow him to leave, but this girl might be able to fly to the Varden, even warn Eragon of the King's plans - unless, of course, she had been planted here by the King himself, to test Murtagh's loyalty... _How did you come here undetected? You should have been seen or sensed from miles away -_

_I blocked my mind to his prying thoughts! I've always been able to! But I'm no Dragon Rider - _(Murtagh's heart sank) _- I'm an Earth Elemental, the last one in existence! My - _Here, her lip wobbled, and her eyes watered alarmingly. A single tear rolled down her cheek. (Murtagh's heart sank further.) _My village was wiped out by Urgals two months ago. I was struck dumb from the horror of what my eyes had seen, and escaped because I got my hands on this sword, which has been in my family for ages, along with this ring! I took it up in a fury to avenge my family, but what hope had I, a mere 5'4" tall, 36"-24"-36" girl with no training? But my natural skills shone through in my time of need, and I killed all the attackers! And then I ran, of course, horrified, angsting, and mute - but I've always been able to talk to the birds, because of being an Earth Elemental, so they were my companions, and, of course, that means I can talk to dragons too! _

There was a silence. Then Thorn let out a long, loud, deafening snore.

Murtagh tried to subtly kick him awake, hoping the murderous look appearing on the girl's face was a coincidence. _So, _he said desperately, hoping to distract her. He rather liked his dragon. _What's your name?_

_My name is Adurna-Baenmor'ranr,_ the girl said dreamily. _But you can call me Huntr'mynxx. And I'm here because something in you drew me! The birds told me to go west - to find my true love, and the cure to my speechlessness, and the answer to the mystery of this ancient ring and ancient sword, and the Great Moose of Wisdom under the Menoa Vault of the Tree of Souls, and my true parentage and the key to my powers. But above all, because YOU need my help!! You cannot live without me, you are dying inside and do not know why, you are stuck in the black misery of forced servitude and I MUST SAVE YOU! Bring me sausages._ Then she fell in a dead faint into Murtagh's arms.

Thorn opened an eye. _How does talking to birds enable you to talk to dragons? _I _can't talk to birds, and I _am _a dragon._

_...You were awake the whole time?_

_Unfortunately. Can I eat her now? _

Murtagh tried not to think about how tempted he was.

**Later...**

The castle at Uru'Baen was not an easy place to sneak into. In fact, it was an incredibly difficult place to sneak into. It was guarded by Urgals, and Kull, and human guards, as well as endless scores of mind-readers, not to mention various magical wards, and the power of Galbatorix himself. It did not help that Galbatorix was in Murtagh's mind nearly every minute of the day, and constantly ripped down his mental defenses to read his thoughts and memories every time he suspected Murtagh was having traitorous ideas. As it turned out, he suspected _a lot_.

Because of this, Murtagh deemed sneaking in with an unconscious girl to be completely impossible, so he just hid her in the shrubbery and headed off toward his quarters by himself.

He did not get very far, however - hardly past the castle gate - before he was stopped by an Urgal.

The Urgal grunted.

Murtagh had always felt contempt at Galbatorix's preference for quantity over quality when it came to his army, but even he was astounded by this new height of eloquency. "Out of my way, Urgal," he said coldly. "I could well cut you down for insubordination." It was only rarely that he wished to assert his position as Galbatorix's "number one," but there were times when it was unavoidable.

The Urgal just chuckled darkly, pointed at him, and grunted again.

It could have meant any number of things, many of which were highly disturbing and none of which he really wished to contemplate right now. He decided to take a chance, however, and guess that the King had sent the Urgal to fetch him. He was fairly sure he'd rather face the King's wrath for mistakenly _answering_ a summons than for mistakenly _not,_ and was _completely_ sure he'd rather face the King's wrath than spend another second with an Urgal of dubious motives.

The walk to the King's throne room was not a long one; and if the circumstances had been different, it might have been called enjoyable. The wide halls were built out of beautifully carved stone, adorned with lifelike paintings, elegant statues and ceiling-high tapestries, crafted by some long-forgotten master many ages before. The tall, vaulted windows were open to the morning light, and every archway was inscribed with letters in the Ancient Language.

But for all this, it was dark. Under the ever-present shadow of the evil that dwelled in the castle, what might have been called beautiful was instead cold, dark, and imposing. The sunlight, rather than brightening the halls, seemed to stop at the windows' edge, sucked in by the black stone and nothing more than a taunting reminder of the brighter, freer world outside. A world Murtagh would never walk freely in, unless Galbatorix was defeated.

It was during the course of this walk that Murtagh always took the time to steel himself for whatever was to come. The King never called him without reason, and a summons always portended pain; whether inflicted on him, for some real or imagined insubordination, or by him, under the King's command. He was not yet sure which he dreaded more.

The guards at the entrance drew back the instant they saw him approaching, spears held at attention in a sort of salute as he passed through. The room was dark, lit only by the great fire in the hearth that ran down its center, casting flickering shadows on the walls. And there, seated on his black throne, was the King himself.

Murtagh steeled himself for the customary intrusion into his mind.

It didn't come.

Well. Perhaps he had finally gained some trust?

_Do not worry, my love. I am shielding you from him!!! _

"...Guh?!" Murtagh spluttered in vague bewilderment. He knew that voice. It was Huntercat. Or Scavenegrminx. Bottom-feederkitten?

_I've flown inside the castle to your rooms, on my raven's wings. Do not worry, no one saw me - I employed my S'tealth'skillz. And that dastardly man will never break into your mind while I am here, my love! Also, my name is Huntr'mynxx, but from now on I will take the nickname Skavynjr'mynxx as a token of your love. I will cherish it always._

_Since when can you read my personal thoughts?!_

_It's because I'm an Earth Elemental._

"...Guh," Murtagh said again, somewhat defeatedly.

Meanwhile, Galbatorix was rather understandably confused. Not only was Murtagh blocking his mind, he had just said "guh" twice in a row, and was looking positively petrified of something only he could see.

"Murtagh!" He snarled. The man in question leapt about a foot in the air, and stared wildly at him. "What is the meaning of this? Do you dare resist me?"

"N-no," Murtagh said after a moment. He most disappointingly did not speak, as he should, with a tone of subservient reverence. In fact, he looked rather as if Galbatorix had suddenly become the least of his problems.

"Then why," the King continued in barely-controlled rage, "do you block your mind?"

Murtagh licked his lips. "...I... don't know." Of course, Murtagh saw instantly that his answer wasn't going to cut it. He prepared himself for the pain of punishment.

Nothing.

Whatever spell the King was trying, it wasn't working.

_I am still protecting you, darling!_ Announced a sing-song voice inside his cranium.

_Get out of my head!!!_ "My apologies, my Lord. I've been feeling somewhat... off today."

Galbatorix narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but seemed ready to let the matter slide - perhaps to be investigated at a later date. "Very well. I have summoned you because I have an assignment, for both you and your dragon. You are to fly several leagues -"

_I'm looking through your closet,_ Huntr'mynxx interrupted. _I hope you don't mind -_

"- south of here -"

_- I also might have spilled glitter on your work boots, but I'm sure the legions of Urgals will only respect you more for it -_

"- will be looking for someone, who -"

_- And I've started redecorating. This place is so gloomy! Our abode of sweet love must be more stylish. I will order curtains -_

"- carries something of great value to me -"

_- And I think I'll rename Thorn. Upgrayedd'Bubba has such a nice ring to it -_

_"SHUT UP!!!!!!"_ Murtagh roared. It took him only a moment to realise that he had, in fact, said it out loud.

Galbatorix was swelling with rage - alarmingly, and not unlike a bullfrog.

"...I mean... 'achoo'," Murtagh said feebly.

_Sorry. Did I distract you? But you should really stand up to him more, Murty. You must be a manly-man, you know._

_...Murty?_ But the King was speaking again -

"One more instance of insubordination, and I will slay both you and your dragon. Now listen well. Some months ago, my Urgals slaughtered a family. Their assignment was to return with the family's heirlooms - a sword, and a ring. They failed, and a girl escaped with both. Now, you must find her for me."

There was silence.

"...A girl?" Murtagh asked weakly.

"Yes. Must I repeat myself? She comes from a village called Angtien."

"No," Murtagh muttered under his breath. "She comes from Hell."

"You must bring her here, to me. Do not slay her - instead, bring her to me unharmed."

"Unharmed, my Lord?!"

"I wish to marry her."

Another silence. Then a slightly hysterical shriek of uncontrolled laughter burst out of Murtagh's throat. He did his best to turn it into another fake sneeze. "Yes, my Lord."

**Later (again)...**

Murtagh half-expected that by the time he had returned to his quarters, they would be entirely re-decorated with stylish doilies. The thought didn't bother him as much as it should have - truth be told, he was walking around in a bit of a daze - but he still felt a sense of relief when he pushed his door open and found his room much as he had left it.

Except Huntr'mynxx was sitting on his bed, holding a book. And crying.

Oh, dear.

_Look,_ he began heavily. _My duty is my duty, but if you run now - leap out the window, fly away, I'm sure you can get somewhere safe before I summon Thorn -_

_That's not it,_ she whispered. _I plan to challenge him to a duel for my hand - I will win, of course, and therefore he will never be able to wed me. But I've just found - I've found -_ Here, she broke down completely before, with a particularly loud wail, she unsheathed her sword and prepared to plunge it into her heart.

Alarmed, Murtagh leapt forward and wrenched her hand away. _What's wrong??!_

_I've found out my true heritage!_ She wailed. _We are of the same mother - twins! But of a different father! My father - my father is Galbatorix himself! And I am descended from a Shade, which is why my hair has this reddish tint! I am not only an Earth Elemental, I am an Earth Woman - or Deloidauthleiker! And I am also half-dragon!_ And she wept more.

Murtagh tried very hard not to think about the technical requirements for creating a half-human, half-dragon. _Look,_ he said placatingly, _that's impossible. All of that's impossible, and in several different ways. Galbatorix isn't a dragon -_

_I know._

_- And neither was my mother -_

_I know._

_- And we can't be twins - and twins can't have different fathers. Usually._

_Yes._

_And there's certainly no Shade blood in my family._

_I understand._

_So everything you just said is impossible._

_I know. That's the mystery of it. Isn't it exciting?_

Well. At least she had calmed.

_But don't you see - it's my destiny! To rid Alagaesia of Galbatorix._

_That's an entirely different topic - and I believe it's Eragon's destiny, actually._

_No. No, no. It's mine. The prophecy changed. It prophesized our love instead._

Murtagh was struck all at once by a very happy idea. _You're sure we're related?_

_Oh, yes. Very much so._

_Then we can't get married,_ Murtagh said triumphantly. _That is incest, and that is wrong._

_Ours shall be a forbidden love._

...Oh, bother.

**Later (again again)... **

Sleep. It was an escape and a prison, all at once. Unconsciousness could help to make one forget the trials of life; and, in forgetting, provide healing and comfort. But a relaxed mind was an unguarded one, and susceptible to trickery and persuasion. It was because of this that the nighttime was both the best and worst part of Murtagh's day.

Tonight, however, he had been sprightly reassured that Huntr'mynxx was "watching over you, my love, so do not fret, just peacefully dream." As a result, he was tossing and turning at _least_ 90 more than usual, his nightmares filled with images of blood, massacres, torture chambers, Huntr'mynxx, and other things from the depths of the cursed underworld.

It was some time late in the night when he finally managed to wrench himself out of his dreams. He could tell, even before he opened his eyes, that there was something hovering over him. Hovering quite closely, in fact. He could feel them, not even a centimeter away from his own forehead, lurking in the dark like some unknown beast about to pounce. He opened his eyes.

Big.

Sparkly.

Orbs.

Murtagh let out a shriek like a Ra'zac in a pot of Seithr oil, and scrambled backwards furiously. "WHAT IN THE HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE -"

Huntr'mynxx sat back on her heels, and stared at him coldly. "About time you woke up," she said snippishly. And she tossed her hair.

Murtagh stared.

"Wondering about my speech?" She turned away, crossing her legs with a queenly air. "Well, I'm not going to tell you. It's none of your business. So I'm not. Really." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She must have realised that he only looked rather confused, rather than insanely, burningly curious, so she continued. "Well. I take pity on you. If you _must_ know, my Lord Galbatorix fixed my speech impediment."

Murtagh stared some more. Was he still asleep?

"Yes," Huntr'mynxx said, nodding smugly. "He came to me in the night. He said I had bewitched him, and that he burned for me as for nothing else. I spurned his advances, of course. He told me he would do anything. Anything! So charming was my personality! And so I asked him, for love of me, to turn his heart from evil, and embrace the light. And he has! I have made him Good, and from now on he is the friend of all living things on Alagaesia!!! And I shall rule with him, as his queen."

Murtagh tried to think of a polite way to phrase a question about multiple personalities and 180-degree reversals and incontinuity - and hadn't she said Galbatorix was her father? - but he couldn't think of one.

Huntr'mynxx, meanwhile, was still carrying on. "I will have to keep a close eye on him, of course, but I believe he fights for the Right Side now. I have Changed Him. He was dying inside, without me - but now I am his guiding light, and sole reason for living. And it means, of course, he is my One True Love. Plus, I mean, dude, he's like, totally so _bad_, like, with that cool black dragon and all his evilness and stuff. So you can, like, up and leave now, cuz, I mean, I don't love you anymore."

Out of all the things he wished he could say, only one seemed able to make its way to Murtagh's lips. "...Guh?"

**The End.**


End file.
